


Bitter Sweet Memories

by MedusaSterling



Series: The Price We Pay [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fate, Fate & Destiny, Immortality, Love, Made-up Background Story, Past Lives, Rebirth, True Love, excerpt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedusaSterling/pseuds/MedusaSterling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This are an excerpts and concept scribblings of a fanfiction I'm currently working on...</p><p>She had been so many people. Lucretia. Luciana. Lucille. Lucinda. And now Lucy. And that were only the names under which she met him. There were multiple others that slipped through her fingers throughout the years like water. But these remained. Banned in a plate of centuries old slate. Would it never end?</p><p>Made-up background story for Lucy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Immortality Is Not So Desirable After All

**Author's Note:**

> This and the fanfiction it is set in are an AU that is as Canon Compliant as possible but differs in some small details as well as the end scenes in AC2.  
> I am currently somewhere during Brotherhood so maybe there is a back story to Lucy and I just don't know it yet, but I found the lack of one rather sad so I made up my own.

Carefully she added another name on the list. Her eyes sparkled with tears as she wrote  _Lucy_ on the slate plate she carried with her since that fateful day in Masyaf. When he died in her arms, choking on his own blood. They thought they had so much time. That their love story would be one for eternity. That nothing could happen to them. How wrong they were. She shook her head as if it could make the memories go away. Of course they didn't. 

Walking around Monteriggioni had not the desired effect. She had hoped some fresh air would calm her but it only made the memories all the more prominent. She balled her hands to fists, the feeling of her sharp nails cutting into her palms did at least somewhat help her concentrate. She felt the blood seeping out of three little cuts in each hand. How often had she done this the past eighthundred odd years? She could almost feel Altaïr's calloused hands gently uncurling hers. "Don't do this Cretzia" she almost hear him whisper in her ear again "You're stronger than that". He had been the only one to call her that. To anyone else she was Luce or Dala or even only Al Mualim's daughter. She closed her eyes to fight of the tears and immediately imagined Ezio's soft voice. "Don't cry cara mia, though even with tears in your eyes you are unbelievable beautiful, my angel."

She ran. Ran and ran until the tapping of her feet on the ground was the only sound she heard as she left behind the Villa and Monterigone. She didn't look back. Then she saw something impossible. Altaïr, her beloved Altaïr. Upon coming closer she realized it was only the ancient tree in which da Vinci had carved the faces of Altaïr and Ezio for her. Ezio. It had been so long. They had missed the point and wanted to spent an ordinary life for as long as he had but he couldn't  _not_ get in trouble and so she lost him as well.

The sound of hooves made her turn around. "Ezio" she called out surprised and confused. Then she remembered. Ezio was dead for hundreds of years. This was Desmond.

"Hey, Lucy. Here you are. We were worried." He said when the horse catched up with her. She smiled sadly. Then it dawned Desmond. "Wait. Did you just called me Ezio?" Lucy sighed. "You must be hallucinating"she deflected but he didn't buy it. "No I'm not. When I'm hallucinating I see Altaïr or Ezio with some black haired girl that is both times the same one. That is what tells me it's a hallucination. It's impossible they knew the same girl. But this was not a hallucination. You just called me Ezio. Why? And why is your hair growing black?" The woman sighed again. "It's a long story" "We've got time. The Animus is overheated, Rebecca is fixing it and said she'd make some improvements while she's at it." Lucy sank down on a smooth stone that had already been on of her favorite places when she was here with Ezio. "Sit down" she told Desmond then began her story.

"This story begins more than eighthundred years ago in the city of Acre. A young woman gives birth to a healthy baby girl. This girl inherited something other than only the black hair and  deep blue eyes from her mother but she wouldn't find out until much later. Her name was Lucretia of Aragon. Lucretia grew up with her siblings until the age of five. Then her father took her with him. Away from her family and friends, from everyone she ever knew. In his home she was trained hard and at the age of fifteen became an Assassin, the only female in the brotherhood. From then on she was known by her other name: Amidala ad-Din Sinan, one of the best to ever be part of the brotherhood. She started visiting her family in Acre on every given occasion, learning about her heritage from her mother. Born as who she was she had the ability to heal and would not age once she reached the age of twenty one.

There was one person she loved more than anything else. A fellow assassin, little older than her. He was arrogant and cold in his behavior, bending even the most basic of rules the brotherhood knew if not straight out breaking them. His name was Altaïr. The two of them kept their relationship a secret until her father was dead because she feared what he would do to her beloved. She wanted to share her immortality with him so she would never have to see him wither away under her fingers. But they were too careless. He died by a traitor's hand, choking of his own blood and she could do nothing but to hold him during his last moments. When he died she did the only thing she could think of: She bound his soul so he would be reborn. It took three hundred years but then a young man was born in the italian city of Florence. When she saw him for the first time she immediately knew that he was the same man she had lost so many years before. Ezio Auditore was cocky, arrogant and had a talent for getting himself and others into trouble. And that exactly was, what would be their doom once more. When they missed the time to make him immortal by an unfortunate coincidence Lucretia, now by the name of Luciana, decided to stay with him until his time on earth was done and then wait for the next reincarnation. But Ezio got himself into trouble once more and this time it killed him. By a traitor's hand he died, once more."

Lucy paused. Then she ended: "I was born by the name of Lucretia Amidala ad-Din Sinan of Aragon few years before the third crusade as a daughter of the only child of Maria Magdalena and my father was the man known to most assassins as Al Mualim. I'm the grand-niece of Salah ad-Din and grandchild of Jesus of Nazareth." She stood up. "I confused you with Ezio on the distance as I was lost in thoughts and you look like him very much, even have the same scar." With that she turned around, mounted the horse and had it take her back towards the Villa.


	2. Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad & Lucretia Amidala ad-Din Sinan of Aragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. First Glance  
> 2\. First Talk  
> 3\. First Kiss  
> 4\. First Fight  
> 5\. Making Up  
> 6\. Fighting Side-by-Side  
> 7\. Revealing her Identity  
> 8\. What others see/say  
> 9\. His Death
> 
> Not in order of appearance in the storyline!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As wished, here is more of Lucy before the actual story begins. It was originally only some concept pieces, so please be kind. This one's about Altaïr, the next one'll be Ezio, then Connor, then Edward. Oh and just to warn you: I kept the year of action with Altaïr but I changed his year of birth so he's about 22 to 24 when Lucy is 19 to 21

**_1._ **

I met Altaïr when I was seventeen. I already had the reputation of being almost invincible and he already was arrogant and cold to everyone. But not to horses. To those he was surprisingly gentle and nice. It started something of the intensity of a wild fire between us when our glances met. I smiled at him from the stall where I tended to my white mare. He was with his black stallion, gently rubbing him dry after a long journey. It surprised me how someone so rough and so cold, such a killer, could be so gentle, so caring. How hands so calloused, that could snap bones and necks, could also be so tender, so careful. He noticed my stare and looked up. I stared into his deep, dark eyes and felt as if I was fell. And in a way I did.

 

_**2.** _

"What?" He asked grumpy. I blinked some times then I asked: "You're Altaïr, right?" He nodded. "And?" I sighed. "I was just surprised by how gentle you were to your horse. They say you're an arrogant bastard." He almost smiled. "And who says such things?" Altaïr asked amused. "My friends. Sayima was talking 'bout the  _most handsome assassin_ and Malik only laughed, telling us you were an  _arrogant, selfish ass_." He scoffed. "Such a pity" I said, patting my mare's neck a last time before I continued. "Such a pretty face wasted on such an arrogant bastard." With that I left the stables laughing at him, hips swaying as I walked.

 

_**3.**  _

"Sh, sh. It's alright, I'm here, I'm here. I won't let anything like that happen to you again." He whispered into my hair as if to calm a horse. It worked... at least a little. Altaïr turned my head to look at me. I stared into his endlessly deep night-dark eyes and then... then he kissed me. My sobs ceased as I melted into the kiss. It was soft and gentle, like an opening blossom in the first light of spring's dawn. When it ended I stared at him. "What...?" I started but he didn't let me finish. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you that I love you."

 

_**4.**  _

"I am no mere woman! I am strong, I know how to fight, I am one of the best!" I screamed at him. "And I don't want a repeat of the last time! I swore I would protect you!" He replied equally loud. I was so angry, so furoius. I was no child. "I don't need your protection" I shouted. "And I don't want it!" And with that I stormed away.

 

**_5._  **

He was on his knees in front of me, his dagger in hand. It would have been funny, had I been in any mood to laugh. The proud assassin on his knees in front of a  _mere woman_. "I am sorry, my sweet Lucretia" he whispered before he said louder and more formally: "Regretting I kneel at your feet now, my lady, my queen, and ask for your forgiveness. I should have listened." He offered me the dagger hilt-first. "Yes, you should have", I smiled at him as I pushed down the dagger. "But so should I" With that I sank down, kissing him.

 

_**6.**  _

The clashing of swords, the rushing of cold metal slicing the air were the only sounds I didn't banish from my mind. We stood back to back and he was closing in on us. My own father, trying to kill me. Because I sided with Altaïr instead of giving in to this madness. We moved in perfect synch, years of spending any free time with each other and fighting alongside, of secrets shared and nights of passion had seen to it.

 

_**7.** _

"Altaïr? Can I tell you something?" I asked. He looked up from the sword he was cleaning. "Of course my love, what troubles you Cretia?" Altaïr asked concerned, setting the weapon aside. "I told you that my mother was the Lady of Aragon. And I told you that she inherited this title from her mother. What I didn't tell you is, what was passed down by my grandfather. Or who he was, for that m,atter." I took a deep breath, then I continued: "My mother was born in the year of 33 as the only daughter of Maria Magdalena, queen of Jews in exile, Lady Queen of Aragon, and Jesus from Nazareth of the blood of David, son of God." Altaïr looked bewildered. "You mean to say..." I nodded. "Yes, in a way. But my father was a direct descendant of the Prophet himself. I stand between the religions. And I can tell you one thing: God is mercy. No matter by what name we call him." I sighed. "In the end it doesn't matter eitherway. It's higher theology and thus nothing I care to bother myself with." I was nervous, so nervous. Would I lose him now? Finally he said something. "Stop shaking Cretia. It's alright, everything is alright my love, my sweetest." He came over to me and sunk down to kneel at my feet. "Lucretia Amidala ad-Din Sinan of Aragon, will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife, once this is over?" Tears in my eyes I nodded, incapable of forming coherent words.

 

_**8.** _

They see two deadly assassins. They see the Lady of Aragon and the head of the Order of Assassins. They see two people marked by death, two people with many scars, inner and outer. Who knows them sees a young man and a girl madly in love. Who knows them sees two souls in harmony.

 

**_9._  **

We were so careless, so sure. We were such fools. Don't trust anyone you don't know who he gets his money from. Now my love was dying. And there was nothing I could do. We shouldn't have waited. Weeping, shaken by violent sobs I held him. Even enhanced by the Eden Apple my healing powers were not enough. Not enough to save him. His blood seeped out between my hands, mingled with the tears that fell from my eyes. "Don't leave me Altaïr. Please, I need you." I begged. Weakly the assassin smiled up at me. "It's too late for me Cretia" he whispered, barely audible, "Too late... in this life... we will... meet again... one day" I cried. For the first time since I was a little girl I cried. "Don't cry... my sweetest, my love... Farewell for now... I love you" were his last words, then he lay still. Somewhat detachedfrom everything I bound his soul so he would be reborn. Then it fully and truly hit me. He was dead. "May you rest in peace until we meet again" I whispered, closing his eyes, kissing him good-bye.  
That night, after his burial ceremony in the crypt, I cried until my eyes were sore, cried myself to sleep. And for the next 100 years I would not awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first two are obviously directly one after the other, while the fourth and fifth both after the seventh happen... Just to give an example where it's obviously not in chronological order...


End file.
